


Wanderings with Werewolves: The True Story

by foxinthestars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blanket Permission, Complete, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-04
Updated: 2011-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-14 10:26:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxinthestars/pseuds/foxinthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilderoy Lockhart tries his signature trick on a real werewolf and lives to regret it; set a few years before the books start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanderings with Werewolves: The True Story

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone who wants to use my work as a basis for their own fanfic, fanart, podfic, translation, etc. has my permission to do so. Just credit me as appropriate.

 

Wanderings with Werewolves:

The True Story behind the Bestselling Book

Harry Potter fanfic by Fox in the Stars, 2004

 

With his mended clothes and untrimmed hair, Remus Lupin felt out of place in the gleaming, cavernous study, like a dandelion on a silver tray. Not what he would think of as a study, the room soared to a high, arched cieling. Huge, decadently tall windows streamed morning light onto the highly-polished stone surfaces of the floor and cieling, and onto the most striking presence in the room, an enormous portrait of the study's owner dressed in brilliant royal blue, blonde hair all smartly styled and in place, perfect teeth gleaming in a self-consciously charming grin. The only thing here he could relate to was the chocolate-chip muffin in his hand.

"Please, Mr. Lupin, have a seat. Make yourself comfortable," Gilderoy Lockhart invited brightly, his crisp robes hissing with every motion as he settled in at the breakfast table with the red-bound book Lupin had brought. Sitting on the table were the tea service and the plate of muffins-two of four were left-and also a blank contract parchment and a quill.

"If you'll please excuse me, I'd rather stand," Lupin said. "I don't mean to be rude, but I can't bear to watch someone judging my work." He paused for a moment. "I would like to ask you, though, how Mr. Grosblack came to tell you about me."

"Hm?" Lockhart looked up. "How did you know it was him?"

"I happened to find that I no longer felt resistance toward telling people I'd written his book, so I knew that he'd broken his contract with me. To you, I assume."

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry!" Lockhart exclaimed, obviously feigning. "I had no idea there was a contract involved! I was just so impressed with the book I wanted to talk to him about it, and when it turned out to be someone else's, I wanted to know about that person, so he told me. I thought it was as simple as that."

That was unlikely. Knowing that it took a great act of will to break such a magical contract, Lupin wondered what could have induced Edwin Grosblack to tell someone like Lockhart that he'd used a ghost-writer and that said ghost-writer was a werewolf-someone thus forced to sell his research for a fraction of its value and see it printed in others' names because publishers refused to deal with him directly. Probably, he thought, it had been a matter of money.

Turning his back to the huge portrait, Lupin looked over the only bookshelf in the wide study. From what he could see, only one author was represented. _Travels with Trolls, Gadding with Ghouls, Break with a Banshee . . ._

"Well, it already sort of looks like one of mine..." Gilderoy Lockhart mused, turning Lupin's book this way and that before he opened it.

"I wouldn't know; it was blank when I recieved it," he lied amiably. He didn't want to admit that he'd found it in the dustbin behind Flourish & Blotts with pages printed upside-down and sideways, but that had been no matter to him. The parchment and binding were brand new, good enough for recopying a final draft manuscript, and the "Obliviate" spell would wipe away the contents of a book or document just as it would a person's mind. If it had been one of Lockhart's books, Lupin thought, feeling the giant portrait's grin over his shoulder, insulting the man's ego would hardly help negotiations, and now as he looked over the bookshelves, _Voyages with Vampires_ did look vaguely familiar... Out of curiosity, he lifted it off the shelf and opened it to a random place, taking another bite of the muffin as he tried to distract himself from the sound of flipping pages behind him.

"Very interesting," Lockhart said. "Of course, I wouldn't be able to publish it the way it is right now. Not much dash to it; you know what I mean..."

Glancing over a few pages of _Voyages with Vampires_ was giving Lupin a painfully good idea of what he meant. _Am I willing to subject myself to this...?_ He'd gone over and over the mental tabulations with Lockhart's offer; probably it wasn't a quarter of what Lockhart stood to make, but it was much more than he was used to. Even with his monthly potion eating up most of the money-assuming he could find a potions-master expert enough to make it for him, but better to think about that than the alternatives-the rest would enable him to take the research trip in Scotland he'd been hoping for, without having to sacrifice room, board, or chocolate...

He'd begun to seriously question his room, board, and chocolate standards, still munching on the muffin, when one of its chocolate chips melted on his tongue. "You may add as much 'dash' as you like, Mr. Lockhart," he said with some resignation, "but I can't agree to abridging or altering my observations."

"Come now, everything's negotiable."

"On that point, you couldn't afford my price," Lupin said, trying his best to keep his tone pleasant. "I may not be able to get a teaching position, but I am a professor. At any rate, I do what I can to advance knowledge in my field. If I didn't take my work seriously, then, even as I am, there are much more profitable things I could be doing."

"Oh, I'm sure there are-"

"I'll insist on that in our contract, of course." After as much as he'd put himself out to buy a contract parchment, Lupin was slightly unnerved that Lockhart hadn't begun scribbling on it already. Well, if this ended in a rejection, it was probably just as well, and at least he was ahead by a tasty muffin, he thought as he took the last bite of it.

"Well, I don't think we really need to be as formal as all that..."

"I'm afraid we do. I don't mean to question your integrity, but you understand, I'm at a disadvantage. I need all the assurances I can get, and I'd think you should want the same, that I wouldn't tell anyone your manuscript wasn't your own."

"Well, about that, I was thinking..."

Lupin tensed; Lockhart's tone was that of someone about to try something.

"...Maybe something more like..."

Lockhart sprang from his chair, whipping his wand out of his sleeve. " ** _Obliviate!_** "

In a flash, Lupin swung _Voyages with Vampires_ forward to recieve the blast from Lockhart's wand on its open pages. Shaded from the impact, he could still see the title blown cleanly off its cover. In one sweep of his arm, he flicked it closed and drew it back, then hurled it by its spine toward the breakfast table.

The book spun through the air and bounced off Lockhart's head; its pure cream pages fanned the air as it went flying. By the time Lockhart landed on his rump, clutching his head with his wand hand and bracing the other on the floor, Lupin had drawn his own wand from the breast of his robes.

"Ao-haoww!"

" _Petrificus Statis!_ "

With a burst from Lupin's wand, Lockhart was frozen on the spot, still sitting on the floor with his wand-hand to his head.

As what Lockhart had tried to do sank into his mind, Lupin's own anger made him tremble internally; it had been so long since he'd felt anything like it, but to think! Memory charms, surely, should have their own place among the Unforgivable Curses, to wipe away pieces of a person's life... Especially since, even when cast by experts, they were prone to causing "collateral damage" in the victim's mind. In the hands of a fool like Lockhart, stupid enough to try one on a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor-employed or not-who had a book **in his hand** to block it with, there was no telling what could have been damaged or destroyed.

 _After all, I'm the only one left..._ James and Peter were dead, and Sirius... Even now, he couldn't fully believe what Sirius had done, but in any case hardly dared to wonder what was left of him and his memories after this many years in Azkaban. All the nights they'd explored the halls of Hogwarts after curfew, breathless with suppressed laughs of defiant delight... Their regular orders at The Three Broomsticks: Sirius's Flamecherry Ice that he would drink through a straw and casually blow cherry sparks from, while everytime Peter took a taste he would instantly have to attack the ice cream in Lupin's butterbeer float, never learning to leave it alone or get his own ice cream... The nights in the crazyingly bright silver light, running beside Sirius shoulder to shoulder, so close their fur brushed with stride, looking up at James' proud antlers silhouetted against the full moon... The very thought that all of that could have been wiped away forever, for the sake of this monument to vanity and poor taste...

"My memories are not all pleasant, Mr. Lockhart, but they are all mine," he said after several deep breaths, walking over to the breakfast table and plucking Lockhart's wand out of his frozen hand before sitting down. "If my temper were other than what it is, that would have been a gravely dangerous ploy."

Lupin tucked the wand into his own robe and took a cup of tea with milk and sugar to calm himself. Perhaps the worst of it was that, within the bounds of the law, he was still the one at a disadvantage. Gilderoy Lockhart had a very public voice; if he wanted to broadcast the fact that Remus Lupin was a werewolf, he could make life very difficult, but if Lupin tried to reveal Lockhart's crime, it was doubtful that such a rich and famous wizard could be brought low on the word of one "mangey dog." He sighed into his teacup. What was he to do but hold onto what he could and bear what came, like always?

"I think we can still come to some mutually beneficial agreement," he said, taking the contract parchment and quill and beginning to write. "I think you'll agree that we should both keep this meeting confidential. I will also keep my manuscript and all rights thereto, and agree not to expose you for the criminal fraud that you are, or to seek any sort of revenge on you for assaulting me just now. In exchange, you will agree not to reveal my condition to anyone, or to inflict any kind of revenge on me." He paused while he wrote, to let the quill catch up to his thoughts, then considered whether he might have forgotten anything important. "And you will let me have the last two muffins," he added.

. . . including One (1) already recieved, a total of Three (3) Chocolate Chip Muffins., he finished writing. He turned the parchment toward the other chair and set the quill across it, then freed Lockhart from the freezing charm with a flick of his wand.

Lockhart immediately burst into nervous laughter as he picked himself up. "Terribly sorry, Mr. Lupin! I- I can explain; this is all just a-"

"If you're hoping to renegotiate, I'm afraid I'm not feeling very generous," Lupin said, putting his book in his tattered suitcase. "Notice especially the clause barring me from any revenge; I think you'll find it in your best interest to sign that."

Lockhart opened and closed his mouth a few times, floundering for words, but finally read over the contract, glanced up nervously as Lupin finished his cup of tea, and signed it. He wrote his name so large that it took two lines, in a swooping if slightly trembly hand.

Lupin took the parchment, signed it matter-of-factly, and closed it in his case. Rising from his chair, he picked up the suitcase and muffins, balancing them all in one hand. "Well, then, good day, Mr. Lockhart. I hope we will not meet again," he said as he walked away.

"Wait, what about-?"

"Oh, yes, your wand. Look for it in the Owl Post in a few days." With that, Lupin left the study. His robes were so soft from wear that they swept after him soundlessly as clouds as he pulled the heavy oak door shut behind him.

 

Author's Notes:

_The author would rather not divulge how she became privy to this exchange; for obvious reasons, the involved parties were not able to discuss it in such a way as to reveal any further details._

_Gilderoy Lockhart was unavailable for any comment. However, we note that his bestselling book_ Wanderings with Werewolves _was published some five months after this incident. Considering its contents in light of this, it is hard not to suppose a connection._

 _Remus Lupin, on the other hand, assures us that the manuscript at issue here was eventually published, but holds further details confidential. Supicion surrounds_ Siren Appearances and Native Tempter Creatures of Coastal Wales _by Blaire Bardot, but this is mere conjecture._

 _As for_ Wanderings with Werewolves _, Mr. Lupin has not read it. At the time of its publication he was travelling, recording his firsthand observations of the more mysterious flora and fauna in Scotland's lochs and surrounding areas._

_In response to the obligatory next question, he reports that the famous "Nessie" is a beautiful soul, really quite personable and fond of chocolates._


End file.
